Story Time
by The Moose Warren
Summary: What happens when you let Rabbit read to a newly powered on The Spine? Peter wishes he knew. Steam Powered Giraffe.


Story Time

"The moral of the story is: Don't do things you shouldn't do, 'cause that's bad," Rabbit finished, closing the old storybook with a smug smile shaping his faceplates. His first time reading a story, and it had gone swimmingly! Plus, the look on The Spine's face was enough to boost his already dangerously high ego.

Peter A. Walter glanced over at his first clockwork creation and scowled a bit. The thing was entirely too reckless with it's words and actions, and now it was filling his newest automaton's head with strange thoughts. It was uncanny how alive the thing already acted.

"Rabbit, does it really say that?" The Spine asked, looking over his "brother's" shoulder to peer at the already closed book. He couldn't read just yet, having only been powered on the day before, but he wasn't too sure that the moral of The Tortise and The Hare was "don't do things you shouldn't do, 'cause that's bad,". If anything, the moral was that slow and steady always wins the race. Rabbit shook his head quickly, changing his faceplates to mimick a grin he'd seen Peter give a couple days ago when he'd finished The Spine's namesake.

"Nah, this is right. Y'see, The Spine, I'm your older brother, so I know these things. Ya' don't question your older brother, okay?" He chided playfully, lifting his hand to shake a finger at the iron automaton, yet another mannerism he'd learned from his creator. Although, he'd learned it from Peter chiding _him_ for trying to cuddle with a hacksaw the other day. If anything, he wasn't going to be doing that again.

The Spine nodded, still getting used to the way Rabbit spoke, "I see...if you are my brother, Rabbit, then what is Mr. Walter?" He asked, unaware that the same man was listening to the exchange between his creations.

"Aw, that one's easy. He made us, so that makes him our Pappy. We're his sons, y'see," The smug smile came back to Rabbit's faceplates, secretly pleased that he was so much more knowledgable than his brother.

Peter, however, was less than pleased.

"Rabbit!" He snapped, throwing his wrench down on the table, "Go to your corner!" He pointed to a corner of the large room covered in old newspapers, keeping his face as menacing as possible.

"But Papp-"

"Now!" Peter ordered, "And don't touch anything. We don't need another mess like the other day, now do we?" The thought alone of the nearly hacked-off head of his creation was enough to send his blood pressure through the roof.

The copper automaton stood silently and handed The Spine the book of fables, head bent humbly. He sat awkwardly in his corner, taking sad little glances at Peter as the man crossed the room to sit next to his newest 'bot.

"Sir," The Spine started softly, trying to shape his faceplates in a manner that mimicked confusion, "I do not understand. Why did you send Rabbit to the corner? He was reading to me, sir. Is that bad?"

The inventor looked into the green optics of the automaton and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his mouth. "No...no, The Spine, there's nothing wrong with reading. Expanding one's knowledge is essential to life. However, you must be careful where you get your information from. If you get it from an unreliable source, there's a chance that you will not get the right information. What I'm trying to say is...don't believe everything Rabbit tells you, okay?" He sighed once more, patting the warm metal shoulder of his creation. He felt that he was going to be a terrible parent if he couldn't even explain something like this to an automaton. Was giving "the talk" going to be this difficult?

The Spine nodded slowly, digesting all this new information, "I understand, sir."

Peter smiled and patted the shoulder once more, standing to his full height, "Good. Go back to studying, The Spine. I expect you to have the first fifteen letters of the English alphabet memorised by the end of the day. And...Rabbit, you can come out of your corner now. I'm sorry for snapping at you," He added the last two sentences as an after-thought, already walking back to the clockwork arm he was working on before.

The loud clanking of metal footsteps across the cement floor and the crash was more than enough to know that Rabbit had fallen over a pipe for the third time that day.

These automatons were going to be the death of him.

"Sir?" He heard The Spine call softly over the the creaking of Rabbit as he tried to get himself upright.

"Yes?" Peter answered, not giving the automaton much thought anymore.

"Is it...is it maybe alright if...if Rabbit is still my brother? And...is it alright if you're still my...father?"

He hadn't expected that. By all rights, he should have been furious that these..._things_ had grown so attatched to him, but all he could manage was a warm feeling spreading through his chest. It was the feeling he got whenever he saw Miss Delilah, but...different. Stronger.

"...Yes," He answered.

"Yes, my son."


End file.
